Specificity
by Immogene Lee
Summary: Slightly A/U one-shot. Arthur and Eames go into a dream to get a little forgery practice. But Eames seems a little less than focused, and Arthur is getting impatient. Rated M for sex.


_..._

_An Arthur/Eames fic _

_One-Shot_

_..._

_Disclaimer: I am most certainly **not** Christopher Nolan and, as much as it pains me to admit, I do not own anything from the movie Inception._

_..._

_A/N: A bit AU. Just a little insight to what Arthur and Eames do in their spare time._

_Scene: Arthur and Eames have gone into a dream in order to practice Eames' forging. But Eames seems less than focused, and Arthur is getting impatient._

_Please, enjoy and review._

* * *

><p>"You've only one last chance." The click of the safety on the Glock 17 flicking off and the cold pressure of it's barrel against his temple caused Eames to smirk slightly. "I'm not going to waste my time down here, Mr. Eames. So either you start taking this seriously, or I pull this trigger."<p>

"I could not be more serious, Arthur." The scoff his statement warranted was exactly what Eames had expected. It really was all too easy. Arthur, despite his need for control and composed facade was as easy to read an open book and as easy to control as putty in his palm.

"Then cut to the chase. I'm here to help you. Stop wasting my time." The man's jaw flexed, the line of it sharp and defined in the dim lighting.

"You gave us ten minutes. We've hardly been here one yet. We've plenty of time."

The gun prodded against his temple again. "I can find many ways I'd rather be spending my time. I've given you two hours. I'll thank you not to waste it."

Watching his dark, bottomless irises carefully, Eames turned to face his counterpart fully, reaching up and sliding fingers along the smooth metal of the barrel of the gun. "Perhaps I can try something else, then?" The curve to his full lips was nothing but devious, his eyes glinting with mischief. Slowly, his fingers moved over Arthur's extended arm, shifting closer, his hand falling heavily against his hip.

"What are you doing?"

"Not wasting your time. Is it working?" With a swift tug, their bodies collided roughly, a sharp intake of breath racking through Arthur, and Eames choked slightly at the feel of his lithe form against his own, smirk widening into a grin. "Because, if not…"

Carefully, his hand moved to cover Arthur's over the butt of the Glock, guiding his hand upwards. He parted his lips, tucking the barrel of the gun securely between his teeth, lips wrapping around the cold metal. The confusion rippling Arthur's brow suddenly evaporated, smoothing into shock.

"You're ridiculous…"

Carefully, Arthur's thumb flicked over the safety on the gun, and Eames smirked, trailing tongue down the side of the barrel. He felt the gun fall heavy in his palm, Arthur's hand going lax, and he felt the tremble creep over him as he was pressed against him. He pressed hot, wet kisses over the man's knuckles, his eyes never leaving those dark eyes, which were inexplicably trained on the action of his mouth.

Arthur leaned in closer, his breath hot against the back of Eames' hand as it fell from his parted lips. Pulling back, Eames straightened, his hand guiding Arthur's hand up to press the gun against his temple once more as he leaned down, lips colliding, kissing him filthily. Arthur's hand tightened over the trigger and adrenaline coursed through Eames' veins as the click emanated, loud against his temple. He groaned, licking into the heat of his counterparts mouth, his nerves singing.

Eames' fingers knotted into the crisp cotton spanning over his hips, yanking it up sharply to expose the olive skin beneath. As his rough, broad palms glided over it, Arthur hissed into the kiss, pressing roughly back against the wall, fist balling against it beside his head. He writhed beneath him, arching up into his touch. But still, he seemed hesitant, never touching Eames save with the barrel of his gun. Eames' teeth trailed across his lower lip, tugging at it lightly as he pulled back.

With a rough tug, Eames tore Arthur's shirt open, the scattering of buttons falling to the ground as he leaned back to look down over the expanse of exposed flesh. for a moment, they paused like that, Arthur panting beneath Eames' gaze. Their eyes met, and there was a clatter as the gun fell from Arthur's hand. Fingers danced across the buttons of the salmon shirt, lips crashed heavily against one another, kiss turning to teeth and tongues. As nails grazed across his skin electric, Eames growled into the kiss, pressing forward again. A gasp echoed from Arthur s a tight fist wrapped itself around his tie, pulling him urgently forward, and he raked his nails lower over the broad torso. He ran his tongue hungrily over the line of his top teeth, catching over the uneven lines. A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth as his tongue toyed over the snaggletooth affectionately, then tucked deeper into the moist heat, memorizing the contours.

A thumb tucked into the folds of Arthur's belt and, with a tug, pulled the buckle loose. As he prised the fly of his slacks open, he let his palm graze over him teasingly, the choked sound his ministrations warranted causing a chuckle to pass Eames' parted lips as he trailed kisses along the sharp line of his jaw and over the column of his throat. Arthur threw his head back against the wall, his muscles tensing and a shudder wracking through him. A swish of fabric and a clink of metal against concrete as his slacks fell to the ground, Eames traced the line of Arthur's collarbone with the tip of his tongue and looped his thumbs around the waist band of his briefs.

"Shit." The curse was hardly above a ragged breath, yet Eames halted his painstakingly slow removal of the unnecessary layers of fabric to lean back and look down at him, shocked. Deviously, his pinkened, swollen lips pulling back to expose his crooked grin and he watched Arthur's face as he slid his palms against the outside of his thighs, beneath the fabric and slowly moved them lower, tucking thumbs into his inner thighs. As Arthur squeezed his eyes shut tightly, gritting his teeth tightly, Eames bowed his head, lips hovering over his ear and breath hot against his skin.

"How am I doing, Arthur? Wasting your time still?"

The scoff, muffled through a clenched jaw, was recognition enough for Eames. He trailed the tip of his tongue along the outer shell of Arthur's ear, and the man shivered beneath him.

"Tell me what you want."

There was a pause, and Arthur swallowed thickly before licking his lips, wetting them. Instead of replying, though, he reached out, thumbing the button of his fly open, and tugging the zipper down. "I want you…" His voice was strained and raw, and his dark eyes were heavy-lidded and hazy. "To fuck me."

The swish of his own slacks falling away, followed by the bristling of the skin over his thighs at their exposure caused him to smirk.

"As you wish."

* * *

><p>The feel of heated skin against heated skin caused the hum of lust to rise low in Eames' chest, radiating in the space between their bodies. His palm was pressed firmly against the mirror, knuckles white as he curled his fingers against the hard glass. He could fee Arthur's hot breath against the back of his hand as he pressed his forehead against the mirror beside it, exhaling in a hungry huff as he rocked back, his backside grinding into into Eames' groin, whose eyes fluttered shut and he choked on a low groan, a sound that clearly made the lithe man before him proud. Opening his eyes, he caught those bottomless irises above the fog rising against the surface from hot breath, passing through those parted lips<p>

His other palm fell heavily on the sharp of Arthur's hip, turned soft with the slight bend in his waist. Placing his foot beside the man's, Eames slid his foot out, spreading Arthur's legs and shifting closer. Fingers curled into the flesh of his hip, and he leaned forward, lips hovering over his ear. Torturously, he flicked his tongue out, tracing the shell of his ear down to his earlobe, which he suckled lightly. Their flesh melded together, already damp with the first hint of sweat, as he leaned forward. A shiver shook the body beneath him, and he couldn't withstand the grin that pulled against his lips.

"You ready, darling?"

"God, please, Eames..."

The sound of his name, strangled by heavy breaths, on Arthur's the slick tongue caused his skin to prickle, and he bowed his head, teeth grazing over the tendon in his neck. "No need to beg."

And with that, he rolled his hips forward, pressing into the tight heat. So tight. Yet smooth. There was no need for lube. This was, after all, a dream. As he pushed into him, he clenched his jaw tightly, teeth digging into the sinewy contours of his shoulder, a deep growl rumbling deep in his chest. The moan that fell from Arthur's widely parted lips ricocheted off the mirror in front of him, echoing in their corner, and he arced his head back, his spine curving and hips moving back against him. For a moment, he paused, relishing the heat inside him, his toes curling tightly against the cement beneath them.

"For fuck's sake, man, move!"

The demand caused a twitch to flex through him, and slowly, he rocked back, pulling nearly all the way out before lurching into again. Their cries mingled together, Arthur dropping his head against the glass once more as his muscles writhed. Hastily, Eames slid his hand along the hollow of the man's hip, fist wrapping around him at his base. He moved his hand in time with the undulation of his own hips, grip tightening near the head, something that never failed to bring forth a hiss of lust from his partner.

Eames wallowed in the feel of him, not just the heat that engulfed him, but the glide and shift of the muscles over his back, the the throb beneath his own palm. As he moved in and out of him progressively faster, his lips moved over his shoulders hungrily, nipping at the salty skin leaving patterns of crescent moon indentations behind dappled across it Slowly, a fire began to spread, blooming low in his groin and causing his skin to tighten. He pounded deeper, everything around him fading away as the flames licked through his body, just beneath his flesh, until they were suspended, the two of them, in nothingness.

"Eames! I... I'm gon-na co_!"

The cry pierced through Eames' reverie, pulling him back to reality, the concrete hard beneath his feat, the glass smooth against his palm. "Wait!" The demand was a heavy breath against his ear, and he halted his ministrations, moving his hands lower to cup him firmly. "Wait for... for me..." His voice was choked and he squeezed his eyes tightly, relishing the build of climax as he shoved deeper into him, feeling Arthur tighten around him. Suddenly, every muscle seized, sinking into him in his entirety and…

Gasping, Eames sat upright in the chair, his eyes snapping open. His chest rose and fell dramatically, head snapping about, catching his barrings. Cobb loomed over him, looking down with a quizzical expression.

"Sorry to pull you guys out, but we need to start running tests." Ariadne stood at Cobb's shoulder looking first at Arthur, then to Eames, then back again to the Point Man.

"What were you two working on? You look… flushed."

Eames glanced at Arthur, who met his gaze with his familiar stony expression, only there was a rosiness about his collar and over the tops of his ears. Silently, he stood, his jaw gritted tightly, and tugged his lapels straight, smoothing his palms over the navy fabric. With a slight cough, he cleared his throat, bowing his head and turning away, walking off without explanation. But not without casting one final, quick glance to Eames, a look in his eye that the Forger could not yet decipher.

Easily, Eames smirked, watching as Arthur retreated before leaning back in his chair, stretching and crossing his ankles. He tugged the cuff of his salmon shirt back down around his wrist. He could feel Ariadne's eyes on him, burning for an answer. Glancing up, he flashed her a charming, closed-lip grin.

"Just a little side-project. Purely recreational"

* * *

><p><em>...<em>

_End._

_Please, review, positive or negative._

_Thank you for reading!_


End file.
